It’s been quite a day around here. There was much stick peeing and nervous giggling. The line is darker on the pink line one. There is a faint blue cross on the blue cross one. And, the digital one said the P word.
Beta is moved up to Monday.
Please, please sticky stick.
I have feelings this way and that about finding myeslf here but it’s late.
I’ll post a more in-depth dive into those tomorrow.
There are two lines hidden in those stupid sticks. I know because against better judgment – knowing it’s really REALLY early – I peed on one today.
And low and behold there it was. The other pink line. I sort of thought it was a cosmic joke – that there was no other line and no one was telling me it was all a big hoax.
Apparently not. I just sucked until now.
The forum that I belong to has a number of girls with Beta’s in March and they were peeing up a storm today. And I thought I had willpower. And that I would hold out. And that because I knew it was really to early to see anything that I was just setting myself up for a big letdown.
Then as I was making dinner, I was searching for a seldom used ingredient in a seldom used cupboard, I came across the stash of sticks that I’ve been collecting. I buy a box when they’re on sale out of habit. Well, with 4 months on the BCP, I have quite a collection. So I took them out and piled them on the stairs to carry up to our loo.
Well, then they were staring at me – and staring at me. And finally just as Idol was coming on I asked husband if he though it would be so bad if I – you know – just one. He’d barely sputtered out an answer and I had the box open and was racing up the stairs.
I’m sure glad I did.
Now I know that there are about a million little milestones between a premature pee stick and baby. And I know that it’s so early this blip on the radar could be gone as early as tomorrow.
But tonight – for the first time – I head off to bed pee-stick pregnant.
I’ll test again in the morning to see if it’s getting any more…pink. Or if it’s back to one pink line.
I just can’t believe it. The bubblebabies may be staying longer than I imagined, and if I’m really lucky, longer than I ever thought possible.
Are you listening bubblebabies? – here’s ten reasons to hang around…
1. I think nutella is an excellent breakfast food.
2. I like to sing just about all the time and can make up songs in the blink of an eye…(you’ve already heard the bubble baby song I do believe)
3. I think a marching band needs as many people as you have around. Two is fine. Three is better and so forth. And…I have no trouble marching down the street with a wooden spoon and some tupperware. (Although I’ll save it till you can join me)
4. I like cartoons too.
5. I am of the opinion that cotton candy might make you throw up, but for a little while before that, it’ll make you really happy.
6. Yes, I agree that going on the merry go round again would be an excellent idea.
7. In the car, I make the noise of the animals passing by. ( My cow sound is pretty authentic)
8. I can read books pretty well, but I can make up my own even better.
9. I stomp in puddles.
10. I’ve been waiting a long time for you so I’ll probably think anything you suggest is a good idea. (That’s a nice way of saying I’m wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even have one yet)
Not a nice feeling in my bubblebaby zone today. Cramps. Oh at first I though they were gas or some other intestinal assult but as the day is wearing thin I’m pretty sure they’re cramps – kind of like, no a lot like the day or two before period cramps.
Not like crazy day 1 want to stay home and duct tape the heating pad to my middle cramps. More like oh crap – she’s back cramps.
So could it be bubblebaby implanting cramps – 4dp5dt? Could it be dreaded you-know-who arriving to put a swift end to all this waiting and hoping and planning and stuff?
Uninterrupted by drugs and other unpleasantry’s , tomorrow would be the day. Beta’s not till the 18th!
AF. That’s all I f’ng need. I’ll keep you posted…
I’m doing all the things. Eating well. No caffeine. Said good bye to booze (sweet, sweet booze). Eating all the food groups. No bad chemicals. None of the things on the ‘no’ list from the clinic – working out, vacuuming, heavy lifting (unless you count my laptop). And I can’t help but feel – this isn’t really up to me.
Now I’m one of those people who gets what I want. And I generally want things I can have – to it all works well for me. And most things I want that are out of reach I can work for. If they’re too expensive I can save. If they’re too difficult I can be determined. If they take willpower I can muster it up – but dammit this is something I just can’t figure out how to have. I’ve done everything I can for this cycle.
And if it works or doesn’t – well, it doesn’t have much to do with me anymore.
And it’s ANNOYING.
If I had a list of things to do everyday – tasks to complete – hoops to jump through – dragons to slay. Well that I could do. But what we have here is a case of the ‘nothingyoucandoaboutits’
The days are limping by. It’s like it’ll never end. And the darkest secret of all is that I hope it doesn’t. If I can’t have what I want, then let me cling to this irritation of not being able to affect the outcome longer so I don’t have to face the truth. That sometimes we can do it all – swim to the ends of the earth and back. Climb a mountain. Dive deep into ourselves – and we still can’t have what we want.
Sometimes you end up with the wrong number of petals on the flower you’ve given. They stick to me.
They stick to me not.
Waiting to pee for 9 or 10 days isn’t a pleasant experience. And wondering if every tickle in your tummy, every twinge, every gas bubble has deeper meaning is enough to drive you crazy. And I think it just might.
You’ve got to wonder why I’m not used to waiting by now. I mean we’ve been waiting for the stork for 2 and a half years. Waiting for medical help for 1.5 of those, waiting for IVF for 3 months before starting, waiting for the suppression to end, the stims to end – the trigger, the ER, the ET, the call about the remaining morulas. Sheesh. It’s like waiting has become the number one hobby around here.
The thing is, that pesky Doc kept talking about “grade one” this and “perfect” that. And gosh darn it, he looked hopeful. Now that hope was as much that we’d help his positive stats as it was for getting us a baby I’m sure. But hey – I can live with that. I like to be good at my job too – and if other people benefit too, well winners all around.
It’s the old ‘H’ word. The word that must not be spoken -(hope)- and it’s hanging around just close enough that I can feel it. And it makes the days pass so very slowly. But at night? When it’s quiet? And I can feel every bubble and gurgle and pop? Then – that (hope). That’s when I’m holding it close.
Sad news on our remaining 4 little fellers. All arrested so we’ve nothing to freeze.
Here are 4 things I feel about that.
1. This means if this cycle doesn’t turn out as we hope we have to start at the beginning. A thought that’s hard to comprehend at this time.
2. I feel more pressure for a BFP – as if there wasn’t enough of that already.
3. I wanted them to make it – I was rooting for them to pull through and I’m disappointed I didn’t make them strong enough to do so.
4. They were only part of my life for 6 days, but I loved them. And now they’re gone. And it may seem ridiculous but it’s sad just the same.
Not much else to report. Except if the probability of success increases in proportion to the increase of my bust size, we’re laughing.